Whitney vs War Heroes: Enough Already

There have been all these memes and things flying around Facebook and Pinterest talking about how Whitney Houston's death is getting all this press but Marines and soldiers are dying hero's deaths every day and not getting a word.  These memes often call Whitney a crack addict or worse.

My heart breaks when I hear about our fallen heroes.  I REALLY wish there was more attention given to the fallen, to their stories, to their memories.  I would love to see news coverage of the amazing lives and sacrifices of our fallen heroes.  These women and men did amazing things and they DO deserve the attention and mourning of millions, but here's the thing:

Comparing their deaths this way cheapens them.  You're STILL not focusing on the fallen.  You're turning mourning and sadness into a competition.  If you feel that someone deserves recognition or mourning, then effing tell their story!  Mourn them!  Don't make little posters belittling someone else's life.  Don't bitch about someone else's death.  Do what YOU can to give that fallen hero what they deserve.

Did that person live their life jealous of Whitney Houston?  Then don't effing make their deaths about Whitney Houston, either.

via

Heck, there are probably a lot of fallen heroes who were fans of hers and would be sad that she died.  Would they be wrong?

What's Wrong with Boo Now? Birthday Edition

      I'd like to start by wishing a happy 25th birthday to one of the most entertaining siblings a dysfuncitonal adult like me could ask for.  Yes, my prepositions dangle - don't yours?

      It's hard to believe that a kid who I insisted was 8 years old for a good 6 or 7 years is now 25.  NotDonna was surprised that I have finally relented and recognized Boo's real age, but given stories like the one I'm about to relate, it seems a litte wrong not to.

      WARNING:  WHAT FOLLOWS IS GRAPHIC AND GROSS - AND ADULT, WITH ADULT LANGUAGE.  IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, HAVE LED A SHELTERED EXISTANCE, OR DISLIKE GOLF, YOU SHOULD REALLY STOP READING RIGHT HERE AND JUST SEND OUT SOME POSITIVE BIRTHDAY WISHES TO MY DEAR SWEET BROTHER.

     Boo recently got a new job which is really, really great because he has been really struggling the last couple years and the job market where is his is basically non-existant.  He got a job waiting tables with a promise that he'd be moved to bartender in a matter of weeks.  He's excited about the job, I'm excited about it, it's an all-around good thing for him.

       And everything seemed to go pretty well since he started.  His only concern was that some of his co-workers seems a little - er, less than enlightened.  After a couple weeks in his job, it became apparent that this was not a friendly environment for homosexuals.  Anyone that was disliked was called "fag" (just typing that makes me cringe); anything undesireable is "so gay;" and any less than macho behaviour results in the inquiry "what are you, a fag?"

       In case you've missed it in reading this blog previously, Boo is indeed homosexual.  So this is a pretty uncomfortable working environment for him.  Now, Boo is about as far from flaming as one can get.  People don't generally "peg" him as gay on meeting him, so he hasn't had too hard a time remaining closeted at work at least until he can build up some seniority and demonstrate his abilities as a very good worker (which he is) before saying anything - which he eventually will.

      For now, he's playing it straight.  Which includes such pleasant experiences for him as having to appear to check out women and be included in conversations about "pussy."

       A couple days ago at work, he saw a male coworker show something to a female coworker on his smartphone.  The female made a face and shoved the laughing male away.  The guy then approached Boo.

      "Dude, you have to see this," he exclaims, showing the screen to Boo.  He begins playing a YouTube video that opens with the phrase "German Ball-Washer."  The screen then immediately cuts from the title to a close up shot of a vagina into which golf balls are being inserted.  Boo immediately turned his head away and shielded his eyes.

      "What's wrong with you, man?" the other guy demanded.

      Boo, thinking quickly covered and said, "What? I don't want to see a video of some guy's balls," acting as though he hadn't seen the vagina at all.

      The guy laughed and assured Boo that that's not what this was and that he had to watch it.  Boo is now trapped.  There is no way out.  He looks back at the phone and watches the whole video, but is unable to keep the look of sheer disgust off his face.

       "What's the matter?  Are you a fag or something?" the other guy demands in reaction to Boo's horrified look.

      And my brother, always the quick one on his feet looks straight at the guy and says:

      "No, Dude, I just really hate golf."

      And the other guy bought it.

      Priceless.

      "I just really hate golf" has already become code among my friends.

      Also, gay or not, who in the world would actually want to watch that?  Maybe MacGyver was just lying to humor me (though I doubt it), but he made a pretty disgusted face in reaction to the idea, too.  And MacGyver is very, very straight (lucky for me!).

Rambling and a Question

      I was working on a different post for today.  A good and interesting one.  But I'm just "off" today and I don't think it's going to get finished.  It is an unbelievably beautiful day out, but I feel like it should be grey and drizzly because I don't want to do anything today.

       Things have been great lately.  I got some big news that I'm not quite ready to share - mostly because I'm lazy and it would take some explaining.  I've been getting a lot done at work, though I'm still burried under a pile of wills 10 inches high.

       Punky continues to be smart as a whip and always on honor roll.


       I cut my hair this weekend, and I gave myself bangs.  I have always had bangs, but for the last couple years I had let them grow out - mostly out of sheer laziness - until they no longer really counted as bangs.  So I finally decided to cut them back in to cover up my freakishly large forehead, but now I'm not sure how I feel about them.  I bet you want to see a picture.  I want to show you one to hear what you think, but I haven't taken one yet. 

       Maybe that's why I'm listless.  I've always been a little weird about my hair.  I get really frustrated if I feel like it's not doing what I want it to.

      Flintstone is more adorable than I can even wrap my brain around.  Look:

This is his new "super excited" smile.  He still LOVES the chickens.

Super Excited Smile.  And, as you may be able to tell from the lack of pants, we have started potty training.  He's ahead of "schedule" on this, so we're going pretty slow at this point, but he does seem to be catching on.  He has also been OBSESSED with books lately.  He ALWAYS has a book in his hands - even his teachers have mentioned it.  However, I don't know why he had a Christmas book last night.  I though I had put those away...

      He has also really started to pick up with the spoken words.  While we still do signs, lately he's also started talking a lot more.  In addition to the words he's known for a long time (Mama, Dada, etc.), he has added a lot more.  He used to say "Mama" for Mama, milk, and more.  Now he actually anunciates the three different words.  He also says Banana and it's super cute because he says "Ba" then flicks his tongue in and out of his mouth to make the "nana" part.  He says pouch, block, beer (where did he learn THAT?!? ;-)), shoes, potty, book, and pee-pee.  He says mouth and eye, and when you ask him what a cow says (or when he sees a picture of one), he makes the most adorable moo you have ever heard in your life.  Those are just the words I can think of off the top of my head, but there are tons of them.  He shocks me every day with a new word.  Guess I'll have to start watching my language more!

       Also, oddly enough, he does not say "no" yet.  Not that I'm in any rush on that one.

      Aside from his usual work and MacGyverings, MacGyver has been making the taxes much more complicated than they need to be and fighting an epic battle with the insurance company over the flood damage in our VA house.  Thank heavens for him because I sure as heck don't have the patience for that stuff.

      I haven't been completely useless.  I finally cleaned off our entryway table, which included a massive amount of sorting.  This is only a fraction of it:



MacGyver seems to think I'm sexy when I clean.  Or he says that in hopes I'll clean more ;-)

      Sadly, after cleaning the whole thing off, it still doesn't look good at all.  We need a new bench/drawers/table/hooks/organizer thing there.  Except we're moving in less than two years, so it probably won't happen.

*** Break ***

      I went and had lunch with MacGyver.  We ate outside and chatted in the sun.  I feel much better.  Perhaps I will actually salvage the rest of this day.

      Last weekend, I snapped a couple pictures of Flintstone and me since I realized it's been months and months since I got one.  Most of them were crap because I suck at photography, but I really like the one below, except the obvious and obnoxious camera shadow on the side of my face.  I know a lot of you out there doctor up pretty much every photo you post (don't deny it), so I was hoping you might be able to help me.

       While I still, as a rule, don't doctor my photos to make myself look prettier or unflawed, I AM okay with doing things like getting rid of this stupid shadow and fixing the exposure or saturation on pictures (though as I'm sure many of you have noticed, I suck at that ;-)).  I doubt there is much that can be done to save this pic, but if there is, please let me know.  And please note:  I do not have Photoshop or any other ridiculously expensive photo-doc software.



Miniversary

      Five years ago, more than three years after our first date, MacGyver unilaterally declared that I was "his girl."  After years of back-and-forth, flip-flopping commitment phobia (on my part), he "put his foot down," so to speak.  We were "official." 

       So today is our Miniversary.  Unless the sitter falls through, we'll be going out tomorrow night to celebrate with some really good wine and some live jazz.  Other than that, we're not doing a whole lot.  We've been so busy lately, low key seems like the best bet.

       This was supposed to be a longer post, but it took me so long to figure out what year we first became official, that I'm running out of time.  I can't believe it's only been 5 years since that trip!  It seems like so much longer.  Then again, it's also hard to believe our first date was 8 years ago, too.  That sounds like ancient history.  It feels like I've always been with MacGyver, but at the same time it doesn't seem like it was all that long ago that I was relationship hopping and making boys cry like it was my job.

        If you're feeling let down that this post isn't full of flowery gush or fun filled details, you can check out what we've done for Miniversaries past - including our super awesome Boston trip in 2010.  Or you can delve into the conveluted path of how MacGyver and I ended up together.  For now, though, I have to go.  I have tons to get done today before I head home for a very special "lunch" with my MacGyver.

      Happy Friday All!

Step 1: Learn; Compassion in Paganism

     The First Step, Learn About Compassion, included two basic overall charges:  Learn about Compassion in faith traditions you don't know much about and learn about Compassion in your own faith tradition.

       I split this up even further because nothing can ever be that simple in my life ;-).  I split the "other" category into other religions and Compassion in general - ie, the value and effects of Compassion as measured empirically, scientifically, psychologically, neurologically, anthropologically (under which heading I placed motherhood), etc.  I pretty much had to split "my own" faith tradition in two since I'm a UU Pagan READ MORE>>

Punky Love

      This is as close to a Valentine's Day post as you're going to get out of me.  MacGyver and I do not celebrate Valentine's Day.  We have a myriad of reasons from the fact that our Miniversary is the 17th, to Pagan holidays that cover love a lot better, to a distaste for commercialism and unethical practices by the chocolate companies.  Punky, on the other hand, is head over heels for the day.  Because Punky, my NINE YEAR OLD daughter, has a boyfriend this Valentine's Day.

      Heaven help me.

      Yesterday Punky made cookies to bring in to school for her class for Valentine's Day.  And one extra large one with a heart made out of red candies for her boyfriend.  Is it wrong that this made me want to gag?

       Don't get me wrong, I didn't tell her it made me want to gag.  Really, I didn't say much to her about it at all.  Mostly because I really just don't know how I feel about this whole elementary school boyfriends thing.  Honestly, I am completely lost on this one.

       I can't imagine having had a "boyfriend" when I was Punky's age.  I was still very much in the "boys are creepy but fun to climb trees with" sort of phase.  Sure, way back in Kindergarten I was kindof a player, but then the social norms started to take hold and I was firmly anti boyfriend by Punky's age.  I was a Tomboy, through and through.

I was more like THIS Punky than my Punky at that age:


       While Punky has a lot of Tomboy and Dorky traits that she gets from me - she loves playing with bugs and her favorite Harry Potter character is Luna Lovegood - she also has a strong girly-girl side.  She is still as irresistably drawn to anything pink or sparkly as a crow.  And it's obvious that having a "boyfriend" fits strongly into the social construct she's trying to function in now.
       It makes me uncomfortable, though.  Really, I know I'm overreacting.  It's just silly kid stuff.  But something inside me nevertheless bulks when Punky says words like "boyfriend" and "dating."  "Dating?" I asked her, "When have you ever been on a date?"  "Mommmyyyyy..." she rolls her eyes at me.

       Why does it make me uncomfortable?  I'm really not sure.  I've been trying to figure it out.  My best guess - as horrible as it may sound - is that I'm worried she'll turn out like Bio.  I won't go into the details of what I mean by that; it should be enough to say that as Punky's mother, there is certain behaviour I DO NOT want her mimicking or inheriting - however you want to look at it.

      I'm probably taking this too seriously, right?  I mean, Punky is only 9.  The behaviour I'm worried about will be in her teen years.  I have already taken steps to educate Punky on topics like self-respect and sex and to keep communication between us open.  If anything, my internal discomfort with her talking about boyfriends now might pose a threat to open communication in the future.

       Still.  I don't like it. 

       Maybe it's not the boyfriend thing itself.  It could also be the way she talks about it.  It's funny, really.  It's so serious.  Sometimes it's hard to keep from laughing at how obviously she and her little friends are mimicking things from TV and movies (though we REALLY limit Punky's exposure to such things).  Last night she told me her best friend isn't speaking to her because, and I quote, "I stole her man."  Yes, she said man.  And stole.  I supressed a laugh.  And a shudder.  I'm simultaneously amused and horrified.

       Or perhaps I'm just completely out of touch.

       What do you think?  What's too young to have a "boyfriend?"  And, for the record, I'm just talking the "at school" type of boyfriend - not the going out doing things kind.  Heaven help me when that starts.

      Oh, and did I mention this boy is something like her 4th boyfriend this year?  Snarky Paralegal says that's a good thing because at least she's not trying to "get serious."  I suppose that's a silver lining...

     




Linking up with the girls for Talk To Us Tuesday because there's nothing I love quite as much as "no rules!"

Reduce, Recycle, Regrow

      If you're on Pinterest*, I'm sure you've seen the latest wave of pins on regrowing celery.  The first time I saw one of these pins, I was completely ashamed of myself for not having known this before.  Talk about an easy, useful way to reduce waste and save money!

       So, of course, I tried it immediately, and  READ MORE>>

High Hopes, Big Ideas, and Plugging Along

      I have time to post today, right now.  Not a lot of time, but time.  I figure I had better put something up because this week is shaping up to be a busy one. 

      I got a ton done today.  In the first hour I was at work this morning, I closed 4 cases.  I scheduled a bunch of conferences and whatnot over the course of the next couple days, and, if I can stick to my schedule, I will close 7 more cases by Friday.

       This is big.  Too many open cases at once is extremely stressful.  And, after last week's craziness, I had a LOT of open cases.  It feels good to get resolution for my clients.  And it feels even better to get the stacks of chaos off my desk.

      Though I do now have a pile of chaos on the floor next to my desk.  I figure if it's there, in my way, looking atrocious, maybe I'll be more likely to sort through it and file it away.

      Right.

       If that were the case, my entryway table wouldn't be COVERED in debris from the last 3 months.  (And 3 months is being generous - it probably goes back to the day we moved in).

      Nevertheless, my desk is cleared off, I've closed a bunch of cases today (I closed even more this afternoon).  If all goes well, I will only have 3 open cases remaining at the end of this week.  That's assuming I don't open any more this week.  Which, of course, I will.  But getting down to 3 cases is the goal.

      I have a lot of balls in the air right now.

      Ha.

      I said I have a lot of balls.

      *Oops*  My closet Jr. High sense of humor got out there for a minute.

      I have a lot on my mind.  Seriously, there is so much floating around in there, I'm surprised strings of words in Times New Roman font haven't stared falling out of my ears.

       I have big plans at work.  I'm revamping systems that have been in place for years.  I'm modernizing.  I'm saving some trees.  I'm leaving my mark.

      You know, between the back-to-back-to-back clients. 

       I have big plans, but putting them into action is slow going.

        The same goes for at home.  Big plans.  Big plans for stuff to do with the kids.  Big plans for the gardens.  Big plans for cleaning/organizing/redecorating.  Big plans for date nights with MacGyver.

       Time to put those plans into action, though?  Limited.

       At the very least, I have made a couple calls about getting a babysitter.

       Thank heavens for MacGyver.  Even though he has been crazy busy the last couple weeks, too, he has really taken on a lot around the house.  My main two chores every night are cooking dinner and doing the dishes - which may not sound like a lot to you stay-at-home or work-at-home types, but I only have about 3 hours a night with my kids and my "chores" don't include any of the things I have to/ get to do with them (homework, playing, baths, bedtime, etc.).  Over the last week or so, MacGyver has taken over cooking a couple times, and done the dishes for me at least twice.  He is the sweetest thing.  Seriously, I have never met a more considerate person.

      I just wish I were better equipped to return the favor.  Which of his chores can I do for him???  It would have to be a heck of a lot of them to even compare to what he does for me.

      But I have big plans for things to do at home.  MacGyver and I were hatching even bigger plans today at lunch.  Ahhhh, future fantasies.

      Then there's this little blog here.

       So many posts swirling around in my brain.  Ethical Eating and Sustainable Living!  We've been doing so much around the house that I want to share!  There is so much information I want to diseminate!  But cobbling together those posts takes a lot more effort than long train of thought rambles like this.  And the Compassion blog (which I secretly think no one else really likes, but whatever, it's important to me).  I'm already in Step 2, and there is so much to write about for Step 2, but I still haven't finished writing my Step 1 posts.  Erg.

       And Project 52?  Yeah, well, we just won't talk about that.

       Dangit.  This was not supposed to be another post whining about how I'm so busy lately.  It was supposed to motivate me to write the other posts I've been putting off.

      Fail.

      Oh well.  You'll deal.  At least it's not another Compassion post, right?  (NO!  Not right, you love the Compassion posts, don't you?)

      I AM busy lately, but it's good busy.  It's getting things done busy.  It's responsible adult busy.

       Which leaves me wondering:

       How the EFF do real, no-kidding responsible adults do this?  How the EF do you live in a house with two working parents and do quality work and lead a healthy lifestyle and maintain an entertaining blog/hobby and keep up on the latest professional and interest-based information and keep a clean house and keep in touch with friends and have a social life and lead church groups and cook and clean (yes, it's redundant, but so is effing cleaning) and date your husband and grow personally and BREATHE?

        Seriously.  I don't think it's possible.  I'm starting to think everyone else is faking it.  Or you're keeping house elves around to do your cleaning.  And maybe your gardening.

       Don't get me wrong, I am having a really good week.  I'm happy.  Things are awesome.  I'm kicking ass.  But even when I'm on top of my game and kicking ass,  there are things falling to the wayside.  I was supposed to reshuffle my savings account setup today, and I didn't even glance at it.  I didn't write a good blog post.  I didn't take the diapers out of the drier.  I am SO far behind in garden prep.

       This post has no point.  But I really wanted to post in case I don't get the chance over the next couple days. 

      And because none of you like my Compassion posts.

      Not that I'm whining.  Because I'm not.

      I am happy and super greatful for all the amazing things life has piled on me to stress me out: Family, Job, Faith, Interests, the whole chaotic mess!




Flintstone decided he wanted to learn to use chopsticks last night.  Pretty darned good for 16 months old!


       And there are about 4 of you who I owe return emails to.  Brittany is one of them.  There are more.  Did I say I was going to send you some information then fail to do so.  PLEASE call me out on it.  I really need to start flagging the emails I need to respond to.

      More random.

      Good thing the lovely Shawn and IA don't have any rules for their Talk to Us Tuesday!  And for more of my rambling, check out IA's hilarious post for TTUT Today and my mini blog post in her comments section.     




 I don't even know if that's the right code because my stupid computer blocks everything.It even, as of last week, block Pinterest.The horror!

Step 1: Learn About Compassion

      The first step on my journey along the Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life is to Learn About Compassion.  I actually started this step way back in December, when I first decided to take this challenge.  I began by "reading" (ie listening to the audiobook) Compassionate Life twice since it is full of a WEALTH of information about READ MORE>>

The Week that Work Ate

       Hello my dearest bloggy buddies!  My beloved Cheap Winos, have you missed me?  Why do I even bother asking?  Of course you missed me!  I haven't blogged all week!  WTF? 

      What a freaking WEEK!  If you read my last post (and you damn well should have, you've had a frigging week!), you know that I was thrown a little off kilter by events late last week.  You may have also noticed that I posted twice on Saturday (when usually never post on weekends), that's because I was standing duty.  Always a joy.  Erg.  So after I was already thrown off by the tragedy, I got to stay up all night (minus about 2 hours) Saturday night. 

      Got home Sunday morning just as Flintstone was waking up.  Wrangled the family for church, and we were off.  After church, I tried to take a nap, but only got maybe 20 minutes since Flintstone was NOT interested in sleeping.

       So, we can see I was really primed for Monday.  If you follow my Twitter feed (which you obviously do because I am super amusing in 140 character snippets), you know that I got bad gouge about PT Monday morning.  I thought PT was at 0600 again, as it often is.  So I got up at 0430, got myself ready, got Flintstone up and ready earlier than I ever like to, dropped him off (thankfully he went right back to sleep when we got there), and showed up to a dark building.  No one - not even Snarky Paralegal - was there yet.

      EEEEEEEEEEEEFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

       So I went back home and at least got to spend a quality hour in bed with MacGyver.  I left Flintstone at school because he was sleeping anyway.

        I could see where the week was headed already.  I tried to tell myself otherwise, though.  I told myself I was lucky, I'd gotten the suck out of the way first thing.  The rest of the week would be smooth sailing.

      Yeah.

       Like that EVER happens.

      The morning was good.  I went to court and won an adoption for a very sweet family.  It was touching and wonderful.

       Then MacGyver and I got our wires crossed about where we were meeting for lunch and we both ended up eating alone.  And it begins again...

        That's when things started ramping up.  The clients started flowing in.  Back-to-back-to-back-to-back...  And they just. didn't. stop.

      And they were ALL divorces.  Usually, I handle mostly Consumer Law issues.  It's what I enjoy.  I feel like I'm helping people.  I do a fair bit of child custody and support, too.  Those can be depressing, but I still feel like I'm helping people.  Usually, I only see one or two divorces a week.

      Not this week.  Aside from trying to keep on top of the bunch of continuing open cases I have, I was slammed with divorce after divorce. 

      It's not that I'm unwilling to help people obtain a divorce.  And it's not that I don't think I'm helping people by doing so or that I view these cases as any less important.  Ok, sometimes I do, but if you're eating up my time bitching about who gets the XBox you clearly should NOT have gotten married in the first place.  At 19.  Ugh.  The problem is that these cases are depressing and emotionally draining.  Half the time, I think people come to see a lawyer because they're too chicken to go to marriage counselling.  I'm sure getting more use than I ever expected out of my minor in Psychology.

      Legally, these cases are usually easy.  They are usually the easiest ones I do.  But there is SO much to them that goes beyond the legal.  Faithful stay-at-home moms who have supported their Marine and lived the very trying Marine Corps lifestyle for years only to have their husbands clean out their bank accounts and leave them with 3 kids and no money.  Emotional abuse.  Crushed dreams.  PTSD.  Adultery.  The list goes on and on and on, and the legal remedies are not really what my clients are looking for.  I have counsellor's phone numbers memorized.  I hand out pamphlets and sympathy as often as divorce worksheets.

      Then you have the "come to Jesus" clients who we have to "talk off the ledge," so to speak.  Why in the world are you trying to financially brutalize the mother of your children?  NO, it is NOT my job to get you out of your child support, asshat.  I promise, it will be much less stressful and much cheaper for both of you - and better for your kids - if you can just move past her effing Facebook posts long enough to fill out this paperwork amicably.  Are you sure you want his command to investigate the Adultery?  You realize that means you risk loosing your spousal support?

      Divorces are draining.

      And, for some reason, the entire freaking base decided to get divorced this week.  For three solid days, that's all I did.  I barely had time to think or eat.  I actually left my breakfast in the microwave overnight one night because I got so busy I forgot I had even put it in there.

      Wednesday, I saw more clients than I have ever seen in a single day.  All but one of them were divorces.

        Something must have been in the air this week.  Something was upping the discord and strife around here.  I noticed it in the Facebook feeds of my friends.  I even noticed it at home.  MacGyver and I were both on edge.  We didn't fight, we weren't mad at each other, but we weren't quite as close and - obsessed with each other - as we usually are.  Maybe that was just a biproduct of the gobs of stress we were both under (he had a crazy week, too, dealing with really obnoxious people).

       But I prefer to blame Venus in Pisces and opposed to Mars retrograde.

       Because I love astrology.

      Do I really think that the positions of some random rocks in space the day I was born have any effect on who I am?  No - OK, yes and no.  No, not the way astrology would have us believe, but yes in as much as I think we are all much more effected by minor changes in our environment than we realize.

       Really, though, I think Astrology provides a great lense for looking at things differently.  If I'm feeling introspective, I'll pop open an astrology book and read about Scorpios to see what fits and what doesn't.  That helps me pin down characteristics in myself I might want to emphasize or work on.

      The masterful Douglas Adams put it amazingly well in Mostly Harmless:

“In astrology the rules happen to be about stars and planets, but they could be about ducks and drakes for all the difference it would make. It's just a way of thinking about a problem which lets the shape of that problem begin to emerge. The more rules, the tinier the rules, the more arbitrary they are, the better. It's like throwing a handful of fine graphite dust on a piece of paper to see where the hidden indentations are. It lets you see the words that were written on the piece of paper above it that's now been taken away and hidden. The graphite's not important. It's just the means of revealing the indentations. So you see, astrology's nothing to do with astronomy. It's just to do with people thinking about people.”

      So I love astrology.  And I also think that the prevelance of astrology in our society tend to encourage people - some people, at least - to behave more like their signs just because they've read them so many times.  Sort of like labelling theory.  If you're told you are intense and vindictive often enough, you are likely to grow to believe it and will then fulfill it.

      I'm also feeling particularly fond of astrology this week because the other day MacGyver and I were browsing through an occult shop and looked up our birthdays in The Secret Language of Birthdays (or was it The Secret Language of Relationships?).  Each individual birthday gets a profile and it also lists birthdays that are good for friendship, work partnerships, marriage, etc.  MacGyver and my profiles listed each other's birthdays as Soul Mates (and there were only 3 or 4 for each day - out of 366).  Not surprising, of course ;-)  but fun, none the less.

      One day I'll have to do a dorky Astrology post about MacGyver and I.  We both have really odd birth charts (in my opinion).

      So, back on track:  It's been a frigging whacko week.  Go, go, GO! 

      Last night, I led the Imbolc ritual for our UU Pagan/ Earth Centered Spirituality group.  Trying to get that ritual written over the course of this week was more than a minor challenge!  I'm damn lucky I did most of the work last week (totally unlike me).  Thankfully, the ritual turned out really well.  It was outside around a fire and the weather was just perfect.  Everyone seemed to be pretty moved by the ritual.

       If I have time later, I'll try to do a post about Imbolc, or at least post the ritual.

       This morning, I had to get up at 0430 again, which sucked because Flintstone did NOT sleep well and wanted to nurse all. night. long.  Then, at 0415, he was up and raring to go.  At first, I was peeved, but then the little bugger threw his arm around my neck and covered me in baby kisses.  How could I be annoyed when I had extra time to spend with my favorite little charmer? 

       I think that's right about where my morning turned around.  MacGyver and I showed up for PT at 0600 - which was actually the right time today.  I ran 3.2 miles in 24 minutes - not a great time for my (I try to stay around 21 minutes for 3 miles), but not bad, either.  And, more importantly, I didn't feel massacred after.

      I have two clients today even though as a rule we don't take clients on Fridays so we can catch up on paperwork.  But things are starting to look up.  Can't wait to have lunch with MacGyver.

      Anyone else have a MAD freakin week?